To Be At Peace
by winter s. jameson
Summary: Early in the younger twins' second summer in Gravity Falls, Dipper and Ford are able to spend some time alone together simply relaxing. After Ford falls asleep, Dipper finds he needs to help however he can when some of his great uncle's past fears come back to haunt him.


Dipper Pines sat on the floor in the living room of the Mystery Shack, his back against an arm of the couch that had been added to the seating arrangement since the last time he'd been there the previous summer. He'd grown a few inches since then, as well; the base of his skull rested on top of the armrest, and his stretched out legs actually threatened to trip people who tried to walk through the room without paying attention. Someone – Dipper had a feeling it was Melody - had managed to update the television that was now angled back into the corner of the room to accommodate the extra seats. He was happy to note the dull gold shag carpeting was still the same, however. There was only so much change he wanted to deal with that summer, at least for a while.

His great uncle Ford sat on the cushion behind him, listing to his left as he succumbed to the weariness he felt from a sleepless night of cataloguing some of his finds from the last port he and Grunkle Stan had visited before coming home on top of the movie that was currently playing as he'd seen it a few times before. Dipper was happy to let the man rest - Grunkle Ford forgot to take care of himself more than Mabel accused _him_ of doing. Besides, he hadn't had any other plans for the day, and the movie was something he'd never watched in its entirety. He wanted to finally see how it ended.

Light snoring from behind him a little while later had Dipper smiling. A quick glance proved his guess right: Ford had slipped down so his head rested on the padded arm the teenager was leaning against. Another couple of scenes later, more moving could be felt, the sleeping scientist unconsciously making himself more comfortable by pulling his legs up onto the sofa and shifting more fully onto his side, facing outward. Finally, Dipper felt something that made his smile widen. His uncle had taken the hood of his recently-updated puffy blue vest in a loose grip. With a quiet chuckle, he returned his attention to the movie.

Dipper mindlessly munched from his bowl of popcorn until he found nothing but unpopped kernels just as the protagonist's son was dragged away from the group of heroes by the villain's henchmen, struggling the whole time. Then, as always seemed the way it worked out, the channel cut away to a commercial, weakening the dramatic buildup of tension.

"Figures," Dipper muttered under his breath, frowning. "But I suppose that means I can get some more popcorn and another soda."

The young man slowly pushed himself to his feet, gently pulling his hood out from between Ford's fingers all in one smooth motion. Surprised he'd managed it so well without waking his great uncle, he couldn't help but grin proudly as he scooped up his empty bowl and trotted into the kitchen. He missed the frown that formed on Ford's face as he went.

Dipper hummed a mindless little tune as the microwave did its work, grabbing a Pitt Cola out of the fridge and getting the salt and butter ready while he waited. Once the corn was popped, he melted the butter, then finished preparing his snack. He was just about to gather everything together and return to his movie when a loud groan and the sound of thrashing from the other room caught his attention.

"Grunkle Ford?" Dipper asked as he stepped over to the doorway. "Are you okay?"

His eyes widened as they took in the scene. Ford was rolling back and forth on the couch, his right arm reaching out blindly even as his trench coat got more and more tangled around the rest of his body. The earlier groan had turned into a mix of angry growling and desperate whimpering. The man was obviously in the throes of a nightmare.

Dipper took a deep breath as he remembered that he was the only one around able to deal with the situation. Soos, Melody, and Wendy were taking care of the Mystery Shack and its usual stream of clientele. Stan and Mabel had driven over to a nearby town to a specialty shop the old conman had heard of that sold the exact brand of cologne that he preferred. This was his responsibility, and he was determined to be up to the task. He cared too much about his grunkle Ford to do otherwise.

"No… No!" Ford cried, swinging his free arm like he was trying to hit an attacker just as Dipper set his shoulders and took a step into the living room.

"Grunkle Ford," the young man said softly with a healthy dose of worry in his tone. He took another careful step forward, trying to plan out the best way to help without endangering himself.

"No, don't," Ford continued, his arm no longer swinging but stretched out to its limit as though he was reaching for something he desperately needed. "Don't take him… Don't take him, please!"

Dipper stopped in his tracks and flinched at the plea, sympathy filling him as Ford's breathing grew faster and shallower. His great uncles had told Mabel and him about a lot of the adventures they'd had on the high seas over the past year, and not all of them were happy ones. At the same time, he was well aware that they hadn't shared everything. He could only wonder what else had happened that could make one of the most stoic men he knew lose his composure so completely, even in a dream. Obviously Stan ended up being just fine, but…

"No, wait! Dipper! _Dipper_!" Ford, his eyes still squeezed shut, reached out one more time toward the middle of the room. "Dipper, no," he said again, weakly, his arm still extended for another long moment before he let it fall, his hand hitting the floor with a dull thud. "No, no, no, no." His head shook from side to side, gasping brokenly. "Dipper," he whispered through a choked sob.

For a moment, a long timeless moment, Dipper couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Ford was dreaming about him? Ford was having a nightmare about him being taken away? And he sounded so… lost and heartbroken. The young man knew quite well that Ford loved him; he never had any doubt of that. But he had no idea his mentor's feelings ran so deep.

About as deep as his own ran in return.

All hesitation gone, Dipper quickly moved over to the couch, where Ford was draped half over the edge of the cushions, his balance precarious as he cried soul-deep tears. The teenager kneeled down next to his head. "Grunkle Ford, I'm right here. I haven't gone anywhere. Nobody's taken me anywhere. It's just a dream," he said gently, holding back on actual physical contact in case it inspired the man to fight back because of a perceived threat.

"It should have been me," Ford barely choked out, his hand clenching and unclenching in the long threads of the shag carpeting. "I should have been able to stop it."

"Whatever happened was just a dream," Dipper said calmly, falling into the same soothing vocal pattern he used on Mabel whenever she had a particularly disturbing dream. "I'm right here, and I'm just fine." He decided to take a chance and laid a light hand on Ford's exposed shoulder, ready to jump back if he got a negative response. "I'm right here, Grunkle Ford."

Ford sucked in a startled breath at the contact and his body tensed from head to toe. His eyelids started to flutter, then slowly opened, but he never moved his head. "Dipper?" he whispered, his voice filled with confusion and desperate hope.

Dipper smiled and gave a gentle squeeze. "I'm here, Grunkle Ford. I haven't gone anywhere."

Ford suddenly rolled back onto the couch, drawing his arm back sharply. The swift movement pulled him away from Dipper's hand, and the teenager froze in place. Bleary eyes tried to focus on the young face before them, finally widening with recognition. "Dipper?" he asked in awe, reaching out again to brush shaking fingertips against a still-rounded cheek. "You're here?" He rested his hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed. "You're here," he breathed, then threw himself forward, somehow pulling his other arm free and wrapping both arms around Dipper in a fierce embrace, his face buried in the crook of the other's neck.

"I'm definitely here," Dipper confirmed softly as he returned the hug, choked up himself at the unusual outburst of emotion.

"I thought I'd lost you. I thought I'd _failed_ ," Ford's muffled voice said shakily. "I'm so glad you're safe."

"I am safe. I'm completely safe."

Dipper held on tight as Ford's breathing slowed and deepened, growing less and less hitched with each inhale and exhale. He felt the older man swallow, and then his arms loosened.

Ford sighed against his neck and started to pull back. "I'm so sorry you had to see that, Dipper," he said in a low tone tinged with slight embarrassment.

Dipper let him reach an arm's length of separation then squeezed, freezing Ford in place. "Don't be sorry, Grunkle Ford. Bad dreams happen to all of us. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Perhaps not," Ford reluctantly agreed, "but as an adult I shouldn't be burdening you…"

"Stop, Grunkle Ford. You're not burdening me with anything," Dipper said firmly. He watched Ford closely as the man took a deep breath and released it, obviously not inclined to say any more. "So what happened to me in your dream?" the teenager continued after a long moment. "Was Bill taking me anywhere in particular, or…"

A dark chuckle cut off the question. "Bill had nothing to do with it, I'm afraid. I have different kinds of nightmares when that demon is involved." Ford shook his head, involuntarily gripping the arm under his right hand tighter as his head rested again on the sofa arm. "No, this one was caused by a different folly of mine." Tears filled his eyes once more. "I wasn't fast enough when the alien security droid attacked you, and it captured you instead of me. I chased after it, of course, but…" He shook his head harshly. "I think I've said enough. I'll be fine with a little more time." Even with the verbal withdrawal, he didn't let go of Dipper's arm.

Dipper sighed. "Please don't do this. Don't just shove all those emotions inside because I'm here." It was his turn to shake his head. "If I've learned anything over the past year, it's that you can't just swallow the bad feelings and hide behind a mask. Mabel and I both did that for a while in the fall, and the nightmares just got worse. It was only after we started talking to each other, sharing what we'd seen and how we felt, that they started to fade and we started to feel like it was really getting better. Please, just talk to me, Grunkle Ford. Please."

Ford closed his eyes tightly. "I'm not sure you can really understand how it felt to watch you being taken away," he protested in a quiet tone. "It was my job to protect you…"

"You felt helpless and absolutely terrified," Dipper refuted in just as quiet a voice, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. "It was all your fault, and as much as you tried, you couldn't seem to find a way to fix your mistake. The metal wouldn't give, or the glass wouldn't shatter, or another droid got in your way…" He couldn't stop, even as Ford's eyes flew open to stare at him with a wide, shocked expression. "Or you actually were successful and limited how much the droid could move. But then you had to watch as the thing still managed to fly into the air, start sputtering as it malfunctioned, then fall to the ground just to explode into a million pieces and leave nothing but charred remains in a shallow crater." He paused to take a shuddering breath and went on again, the words just spilling out in a flood. "Sometimes you don't even get the chance to rescue anybody. The first shot isn't meant to incapacitate; it kills. All you can do then is fall to your knees and feel your heart shatter completely and the guilt eat you alive from the inside out." The tears had built up enough to overflow and spill down his cheeks by that point.

"Dipper," Ford finally managed to choke out. "How…"

"It's not like I have to change a whole lot from what really happened, Grunkle Ford," Dipper said with a hitch in his voice. "I remember how I felt and what I was scared of at the time, and my imagination takes it from there. I really do understand. So please, _please_ don't shut it all away, thinking you're protecting me from something. All you'll end up doing is hurting yourself, and I just can't bear to see you do that." He gave the older man a small, quivering smile. "I love you so much, Grunkle Ford. I just want to help you."

Ford's breath caught at his nephew's words. "I love you, too, Dipper," he whispered, then pushed himself up to take the young man into another tight embrace. "You are so precious to me. I just couldn't bear to lose you, especially if there was a way for me to prevent it." His face scrunched up in pain, and he couldn't help but bury it again in the crook of Dipper's neck. "I almost couldn't. I almost _didn't_." His whole body tensed. "I almost didn't protect you from a security measure I had dismissed as irrelevant because I had dealt with it so often in the past I didn't truly consider it a threat any longer." He shook his head and the tears returned full force. "I never warned you. I left you unprepared. And you could have been…" A sob escaped him as he began to tremble. "I could have lost you! And it would have been all my fault!"

Dipper held on tight as the floodgates opened and Ford began crying full-body sobs into his shoulder. His own tears silently fell, half of them out of relief that his uncle had actually let himself go and was releasing all of the pent-up emotions his nightmare had brought to light. The hug was comforting for him as well; having again dug up his own emotions about what had happened – and almost happened – in the buried spaceship at the end of the previous summer, it was nice to have Ford there in person to reassure him with his solid if exhausted presence.

Ford cried for a while longer, Dipper never loosening his grip, then slowly started to calm down. "I could have lost you," the older man whispered through his lessening tears, his weight being taken more and more by his nephew. "So many times I could have lost you. And losing you would destroy me." He took in a shuddering breath, the breath out just as quivering. "But you're still here. And I am so, so grateful for that."

Dipper almost missed the last two comments, Ford's volume barely audible. He smiled down on his uncle fondly then found himself suddenly having to shift his balance as he took on almost the entirety of the man's weight. Ford had fallen asleep once more.

"Sweet dreams, Grunkle Ford," Dipper murmured as he shifted him back onto the couch as gently as he could, almost exactly into the position he'd been in before the nightmare had taken hold. The teenager was happy to see there was a difference, however: now Ford wore the ghost of a smile as his whole body relaxed into the cushions, his arms draped loosely over his midsection.

Dipper grinned at him as he pushed himself to his feet, then carefully straightened out the familiar khaki trench coat. A long, silent moment went by like that before the sound of stone grinding on stone had him turning to look at the television, the forgotten movie having built up to its climax unnoticed. The young man smirked; apparently he was going to get to see the part he always missed after all.

With that he remembered his left-behind soda and snack. Dipper trotted off to the kitchen, quickly returning with can and bowl in hand. When he got back to the couch, however, he saw that Ford's right arm had shifted, the hand twitching at the edge of the cushion. He gave his grunkle another soft smile and situated himself where he'd been seated before, purposefully letting his hood fall over the trembling digits. He quickly felt those fingers grasp the thin fabric, and as the deep, contented sigh reached his ears he knew he'd done the right thing.

That was the way they spent the rest of the afternoon, resting together, family bonds secured and deepened, both of them totally at peace.


End file.
